So on friday night I went to San Sebastien to see what was going on and I was suprised by how busy it was. There are hundreds of these little bars which remind me of little cafes in South London, you know like the old school pie and mash kinda ones, anyways in each one the bar was coverd in cakes and snacks and tapas and everything so i had a few beers spoke to some Americans. From speaking to the annoying Americans I found that not only was its some kind of festival in San Sebastien but also that in Pamplona not more that an hour from where I currently was satanding was the running of the bulls !! Something I have always wanted to do and never thought I would. So I finished my beer and jumped in my €300 Fiat Uno and hopped skipped and Jumped to Pamplona
After an hour or so of going not much faster than 60 mph due to Pamplona being mainly uphill, I found myself in the most sureal of situations surrounded by people wearing only white and red… Literally millions of people (4m expected aparently) were walking the streets and just as many were looking for a parking space including my self in my now very hot and very unhealthy sounding Fiat Rubbisho. After 2 hours of trying to find a parking space, granted there was one stop to pick up some beers from what seemed to be a corner shop that doubles up as a Japanese disco. €2 for a liter of SanMiguel, needless to say I was stoked at the prices and also the Japanese disco atmosphere. Sooo I continued on my quest to find a parking space, one that A) Was safe enough to sleep at B) I could leave the Shit Mobil for 2 days without it getting coverd in drunk spaniards or destroyed by raging bulls! At 3am I finally found a place in a high rise flat car park 50% less safe than I was hoping but 110% no chance of getting mushed by bulls as I was 30 mins walk from the town…. So what do I do it 3 in the morning I am not drunk very tired and my car sounds like its about to explode…. !!
So its 3 am I am in my car park / home for the next two days, I am tired cold, and have eaten too many crab sticks that I picked up in San Sebastien, I sit on my bonnet drinking the remaining Japanese disco beers and watch like a million Spanish drunks stumbling around the streets. They sleep anywhere they desire I saw a guy in the park blowing up a lilo to sleep on at 5am where as some didnt have that luxuary and decided that the floor sans sleeping bag would be a better option, obviously there is like 10,000 others like me having parties out of the back of their cars drinking buckets of red wine maybe sangria either way it looks brilliant.
Anyways its 5am, I am siting on my bonnet and I decide its too late to do anything worthwhile tonight (I later learnt that at 5am the party has not even started yet, but wait for that). I sleep in my car not as uncomfy as I thought it would be and I set my alarm for 8am so I dont miss the bulls the next day.
8am : Wake, my mouth feels like the bottom of a bird cage and it feels like I have smoked a thousand cigarettes, no water to brush my teeth so beer makes a good substitute. I get dressed very aware that I have nothing either red or white and will stand out like a sore thumb in my check shirt and skate shoes.
Oh well finish the rest of the san miguel mouthwash, walk into town. Why are the streets so quiet? Why is everyone walking in diffrent directions and not to one central bull racing venue?? I start thinking I have got ghe wrong day, sadly my Spanish is limited to ordering a sandwich and a beer, but this also seems to be a struggle here as am in the heart of the Basque country where nothing makes sense and they have their own language. Sooo people walking everywhere and I hear a English voice, well Bolton but thats almost English. So I ask where are the bulls, whats going on??
“Ahhh mate you missed them you gotta get there latest 7am, all I can tell you that is that they were fun”
In my head you can imagine the dissapointment, the shit car, the Japanese disco, the cold uncomfortable sleep for what?? Fuck Bulls fuck Pamplona fuck Spanish, fuck fuc……
“But you know they are on tomorrow , right?”
Fuck yeah its still on, my journeys been save, I am a bull fighter, I am Theseus and I will slay my minotaur……
So what to do with my day, I wander towards the old center of town, not to my surprise there are hundreds of people still, some families some couples mainly the remainder of the drinkers clinging to their bottles of San Miguel and buckets of Rose. I keep walking realsiing just how busy this place is, thousands of people everywhere its 10am and the bars, cafes restaurants all full. On the way into town there is what I had thought the night before was a fun fair but was actually a food emporium, loads of different tents selling the bet basque meat and fish you could imagine. Paella the size of poker tables, more roast chickens that Hugh Fernleys Christmas dinner and more to the point its cheep. Its super cheap I have a half chicken and chips, proud of the fact that I am not exploreing the local dishes, I order another beer, the beers are big and cheep, I am happy.
So after my slap up meal for around 8 Euros i head into the old town its 11am my head slightly hazy, I am starting to really like it here, I walk deeper and deeper into the town, I realize I am on the street in which the bulls only a few hours earlier were mowing down the drunken masses, there are big wooden barricades at the side of the streets which people use to hide behind if they realize the bulls are gaining on them a bit too quick for comfort. I walk the route of the bulls at the end of which I find my next entertainment.
I buy a ticket for a bull fight from a man I am sure had no idea what i was asking for which makes sense as I really wasnt sure either, I just saw a poster of a huge bull and a man standing right in its path, it looked good to me. €15 , a bit steep I think, but as I have always wanted to go to one since I was a young kid I would have paid anything. I had wanted to go to a bull fight for as long as I can remember, when I was a baby till the age of 9 my family had spent every summer in Spain at my Grandparents house, my mother would never let me and my sister go to a fight I am not sure why, distressing maybe or just at €15 a head its not really a family affair.
I had Bullfighters outfit when I was younger and thought its was the coolest thing I could ever wear and I still think that and when you see the bullfighters you can understand why, so smart, so proud, thety must get more action than any premiership footballer. Its amazing people are jumping over bulls and feet tied togethe and all kinds of amazingly dangerous displays that make me smile from ear to ear.
I am a kid again, I call my sister to tell her what I am doing and she tells me about how she always wanted to go when we were younger. The bulls are not killed at this event and maybe thats a good thing for my first time, I love these bulls, I love the arena, I love the bullfighters. I climb over the fence at the end so I can stand on thesand of the arena, granted there are lots of kids here also pretending to be bulls with their friends but I had to do it. I triend to jump over the fence like the bullfighters and succeeded, I knew I could have always been one.
